Chapter Text
[The study at Aubrey Hall]
“It seems to me that you will find any excuse you can to keep me away from your sister. That is it, is it not? You simply do not like me.”
“Of course I do not like you-!”
“Then tell me why? Have I done something to you? Why is it that you dislike me so?”
“Because… because you vex me!”
“And what is it, do you think, you do to me?”
“What? What do I do to you.”
“You- you hate me.”
“Yes. I do. I hate you.”
...
“I am a gentleman.”
“And your heart is with my sister.”
“And my heart… is with… your sister.”
“What are you do-”
“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing, and I will walk away.”
“I feel… -”
“I feel… -”
“You.” she let out in a shuddering breath.
He stayed very still while she clarified.
“Everywhere, I feel you. Every time you enter a room. Every time I become aware of your presence. When I can sense that you have noticed me. When I feel your gaze on me. Even if I cannot see you. I can always feel it…
“…and it is maddening.”
She stepped back as she admitted this, shaking her head, breaking their contact. Terror – and something deeper – in her eyes, glaring at him. Her anger had turned into something upset, scared even. She was afraid of the strength of this power they felt.
She made a noise of acute frustration in his direction, nearly stamping her foot. “Why do you do this to me?”
But he was also flustered beyond belief.
“Do you suspect me to be doing this on purpose?” He accused; astonishment written across his face. “That I would choose to upset you so? To what end?”
“‘To what end?’ indeed!”
He gaped at her.
“Wha- There is no ‘end’! Because I am not a villain here, I am a victim! Because all that you accuse me of doing is what you have been inflicting on me since we first met. I am the one driven to distraction by the mere mention of you. I cannot stop thinking about you. I see you in my dreams, every time I close my eyes… I cannot sleep for being haunted by you.”
He ran his hand over his hair.
“What is happening to us?” Kate asked, thoroughly agitated.
He shook his head, at a loss.
The distress suddenly manifested as a physical pain in the middle of her abdomen, just below the bottom of her breastbone. A literal pang of empathy as she realized he was being affected as badly as she was, and she would not wish this pain on any acquaintance. Especially not him.
And a sudden hitching of her breath as the implications dawned on her. A hitch so strong it was more like a gasp. It caused her to be unsteady on her feet, and she stumbled forward a step, her hand flying to her torso.
He was there immediately, holding her securely – suddenly very aware of how close they were.
She straightened up and fought to control her ragged breathing as she dared to meet his eyes again.
It may not have been the sanest choice.
She could not even begin to decipher his expression. The firelight cast shadows across his features, but she could see something burning in his eyes. She felt her eyelids flutter as if she were blinking into the sun.
“What is happening to us?” she gasped again, quietly, into the space between them, her breath still uneven.
He shook his head slowly, deliberately, never taking his eyes off hers.
“I do not know…” His voice was distant, a whisper, distracted by whatever he saw in her face.
Her lungs decided to give up breathing altogether at that point.
She only realized he was still holding her when he moved one of his hands up her arm. She froze but allowed him.
The hand moved carefully over her sleeve, caressing the tiny beads sewn onto it, and she shivered as it touched the skin of her neck…
Involuntarily, she rolled her head into his touch.
It kept travelling up until it came to rest along her jaw…
She felt her own hand moving of its own accord, landing lightly on his hip, pulling them closer.
He tilted her slightly drooping head to face him…
“Why can’t we fight it?” he mused, his thumb running over her cheekbone.
“Why won’t it let us be?” she asked in turn.
Their heads drifted forward until their foreheads were touching. Noses very nearly brushing. They both looked down, closing their eyes to steady themselves.
“You are a viscount.” She stated, as if the fact would help matters.
“I am a viscount.” He repeated.
“And I am your Diamond’s guardian.”
He grimaced at her words.
“And you are… the Diamond’s guardian.”
“We cannot be seen…” She shook her head. “…anything improper …”
“A scandal…”
“The gossip…”
-Pause-
“I don’t care…”
“Neither do I…”
Slowly, they both registered this whispered conversation, and looked up at each other.
“We should be able to resist this. This… distraction.”
She took no offense at that description. It was very distracting.
“So why can’t we? Why can’t we control this?”
Her breathing had increased, and Anthony was trying very hard not to stare at her chest.
There was still terror in her eyes. He knew she could see the same in his. They were very much kindred spirits, and neither had ever taken well to not being in control.
“We’ve trained ourselves to ignore distractions. To put duty above all else... So why…? Why can’t I stop wanting to be near you?”
“Why can’t we stay away from each other?” she whispered, searching his face.
He studied her. Contemplated their options.
“I do not fully understand this… connection… between us, but I do know that it would be untenable for me to go through with my betrothal to Miss Edwina.”
“We cannot do anythi-”
“I know.” He cut her off quickly.
“I know.” Softly this time, understanding tinged with sadness.
They stood like that, holding each other close, breathing in their being. Just existing in that moment together. Holding so much back, respectful of the other. It was not just their reputations at stake. It was their families’. And Lady Danbury’s as well. Neither could bear to put a stain on their family name and they both understood this.
Kate let out a violently shuddering breath in frustration, losing herself in the moment.
“No matter how much I might want to.”
Anthony laughed at that and pulled back enough to look into her eyes.
She immediately averted them, removing her hand from his waist, and – although he could not see it in this light – he could swear he could feel a blush rising in her face.
Realizing her embarrassment, he quickly sought to reassure her. He lightly caressed her wrist with his fingertips as he sought to hold her hand. He turned her gaze back to him again with the hand that was still on her jaw.
“Please, do not mistake my reaction as teasing. I was just surprised to hear you say it. Out loud.”
She did not look entirely convinced.
“Miss Sharma.” He addressed her, gaining her full attention. She brought her eyes back to his.
He lowered his voice and moved his face close to her again. Leaning over to speak directly in her ear, he whispered, “In fact, were it not for propriety and the sake of our families’ reputations, I would take you right here in this study.”
She let out a tiny gasp, a shiver of anticipation running through her as his lips brushed her cheek.
She could not think clearly.
“What makes you so sure that I would let you take me, my lord?”
The words were out of her mouth before she realized she had said them.
But she smiled, emboldened by the reaction her response had elicited in him. She had turned to whisper her words in his ear, grazing his jaw, and this time the shiver ran through his body. He seemed rather speechless. Stalled, as if he hadn’t expected her to respond at all, let alone with a quip.
He let out a short laugh as he recovered and adjusted his approach. He pulled back to look her in the eye – the connection far more powerful than he had expected.
“Miss Sharma.” He began again, and Kate couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation.
His voice dropped into the best rakish tone he could muster in his current state of amusement, repeating, “In fact, were it not for propriety and the sake of our families’ reputations, I would ask – nay…”
– a dramatic pause –
“…request – to take you right here in this study.”
She smirked at his obedience. Viscount Bridgerton did not politely ask for things he wanted. He simply demanded them and took them.
There was something incredibly sexy about asking for consent like that, something intoxicatingly powerful. She felt like she had won already, and she wouldn’t let that damningly pleasing smile convince her otherwise. Or distract her. It had a habit of doing that.
She pretended to think about it, as if he had actually asked her in their hypothetical scenario.
“Well… I would have to consider it…” she trailed off, eyeing him cheekily. Playing coy.
He huffed out a laugh at her impertinence. No woman he had ever met had ever been as frustrating as her.
[And – to be fair – he had met a lot of women.]
“I suppose it is possible that I might be inclined to acquiesce to your… request…” She said the words slowly, deliberately, taking her time.
He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“In a world without propriety or reputations to worry about, of course.” She clarified.
“Of course.” He murmured in agreement, as if it were of no consequence. As if they weren’t governed by the rules of decorum at all times.
He pulled her hand up to shoulder-level, pressed his palm to hers, and intertwined their fingers. His other hand stayed dutifully on her cheek.
“I would be quite amenable to that.”
“No doubt you would be, my lord.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means, my lord?” A quirk of her eyebrows.
“That I’m a capital ‘R’ rake? That I’ve been known to enjoy a night out on the town?” He hoped she couldn’t see the hurt that crossed his expression as he admitted to what was once a prideful boast.
A slightly panicked, guilty look flashed across her face as she realized that was indeed what it had sounded like, even though that was not her interpretation. The awkward social faux pas of thoroughly misinterpreting a comment.
She paused. Deciding it was not worth lying about, – considering he would most likely be able to see through any falsehoods she gave him in this moment anyways – she begrudgingly told him the truth.
“Not at all,” she flicked her head as if shifting a strand of hair away from her face. Her telltale sign that she was anxious.
“I was merely agreeing… while insinuating that if that hypothetical situation were to occur, you would be far better than ‘amenable’ by the end of it.”
He gaped at her. Now it was his lungs that had given up working.
And the blasted girl smirked at him.
He could feel his hands shake with the restraint he was having to exert to stop himself from ravishing her right there. Of course, as a gentleman, – and a decent human being – he would have stopped immediately if he sensed any hesitation from her; but had a sneaking suspicion that she was as eager as he was.
“I cannot marry your sister.” He reiterated, to change the subject. “I cannot bind us together in such a manner for eternity. I will not be able to maintain my honor, your honor. I am not that strong.”
He hated admitting to any weaknesses, but he saw no other option than to tell her the truth.
The smile fell from her face, and she looked away sadly.
“I never thought I would be the one to ruin her chance at a life that would provide her with everything she ever wanted. Everything I taught her to want, everything she deserves. And it would have been fine, and everything would have been perfect, if the man we had found had been anyone but you.” She spoke with such passion, a desperate whisper.
It was not an accusation, per se. Nor did it feel like one. It was merely a statement of fact, for they both knew it was true. This connection was the only thing standing in the way of everyone getting what they wanted, – or what they thought they wanted – and it did not seem to be willing to budge. They would just have to work around it.
But Anthony marrying Edwina was not a possibility anymore. The mamas and Lady Danbury would come up with something to explain this turn of events to the ton.
They had to.
Anthony was lost in her expression, disliking the sorrow he saw there.
“I do not know how I will face her again, knowing I have been a part of the dissolution of this courtship. But I know there are many other worthy suitors in London; perhaps even one she could fall in love with.”
“Because there is no love between her and me.” The statement came tumbling out of his mouth.
It was her turn to grimace at his words.
“We will sort it all out. Our mothers will think of something.”
“And then what of us?”
He moved his hand from her jaw to push back an errant curl that had fallen across her temple.
Her eyes closed at the tenderness of his touch.
They stood there, close again, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, nearly toe to toe.
Completely out of bounds of propriety.
But they could not step away.
They found that they were quite physically incapable of backing up, of putting some distance between their bodies. This closeness felt right. It felt natural. It felt like any space between them would bring unimaginable pain. They could not bear to be out of the other’s orbit.
But even that was not close enough.
One hand still holding hers, the other that had been resting so warmly against her cheek moved around to the back of her neck, gently holding her in place. Like he was afraid of losing her. Her proximity, her closeness, her scent…
Her hand was sliding up his chest.
They knew there was a line they could not cross, but they both seemed willing to risk everything to find out how close they could get.
And if the other would cross it.
…If they could get the other to cross it.
-
Anthony sighed deeply.
“We should not be seen together from here on. Not outside of chance encounters or planned events. Even at balls, we should not be seen conversing for too long.”
This suggestion was quite at odds with the current position of their bodies, held in an unmoving embrace, desire burning for one another.
Both felt their stomachs drop involuntarily at the prospect of being apart, even as their rational minds acknowledged the wisdom in the tactic. They could not give anyone anything to misinterpret or gossip about.
[Such were the pitfalls of forbidden love...]
She nodded.
They were both also acutely aware of the knowledge that once they broke apart, they would not be allowed to repeat this moment.
So, they were both clinging to it with all their might.
A few moments of silence.
Stillness.
-
“Although…”
He heard a note of hope in her voice.
“I suppose I might be still able to fit in the occasional morning ride… I believe I can convince Lady Danbury to continue to allow me to borrow one of her horses.”
He smiled. They had their own secret rendezvous. Something about that warmed him. Immensely.
“And I might be able to fit in the occasional morning race in the park.”
“With strange women?”
“Hopefully only one strange woman.”
“What an unfortunately unlucky lady.”
“What an unfortunately unlucky man.”
He could feel her laughter.
“I shall look forward to it, Miss Sharma.”
“As will I, Lord Bridgerton.”
-
They could hear noises drifting in from the hallway: laughter and loud conversations.
“I should go first, to see if the coast is clear.”
“Alright.” She agreed simply.
But he did not move to leave.
He did not move at all.
“Lord Bridgerton.” She whispered, a smile playing at her mouth.
“Hmm?”
His lips were dangerously close to hers.
“You ought to go.”
“Mmhmm, I ought to go.” He showed no intentions of moving other than nodding his head.
“You should leave first.”
He let out a sigh. A look of honest sadness passed over him before he could stop it. Leaving was the inevitable action he was going to have to take, but he didn’t want this moment to end. Didn’t want to be the one to end it.
“Please go, my lord.”
A whisper now, almost a plea. A pained look on her face.
He didn’t realize he was moving.
Reaching forward, he pulled her to him – but not for a kiss; he pulled her head to his shoulder, his arms curling around her back.
It was a deep hug, holding her tightly, conveying meanings he could not put into words in the only way he could think of in that moment. He held her steady, arms wrapped around her, connecting their bodies. One hand on the back of her neck, the other wound around her waist. Fitting against each other.
And she embraced him back. Matching his vigor with her own.
A passionate embrace, clutching desperately to each other, not allowing themselves to go further but not wanting to break apart.
Knowing they had come up to the line that they could not cross.
Wishing to exist in this moment.
Being grateful that there was someone who could empathize with what they were going through.
Sharing their burdens with each other.
Easing the burdens of the other.
Existing together.
And it was what they both desperately needed, even if they didn’t realize it themselves.
They saw who the other was, their true self, underneath the years of trauma they had endured and the defenses they had put in place. At their core, they were the same. And they could sense that in the other.
And they both sadly knew that propriety would not allow them to pursue this connection at present. Not if they wished to avoid a scandal.
And it felt devastating.
They conveyed this to each other with the pressure of their embrace. It was leaving them both rather breathless – from exertion and crushed lungs and emotion.
Kate’s breathing had become slightly hitched, like she was crying, but Anthony just held her tighter. Willing her to calm down. Holding her as if he could pull her sadness from her.
It was quite overpowering. Anthony never knew such emotion could be felt in something as simple as an embrace.
-
Finally, the desperation subsided, and they released each other to a very loose hold.
“I should go now.”
She just nodded, unable to speak.
He reverted back to formality in order to get himself to leave. After all, formality was what he had trained himself to excel at for going on ten years now. To perform his duties perfectly, automatically; to avoid the interference of feelings at all costs.
“I will pass by the door again in about thirty seconds. When I rap on the door in two sets of twos,” he motioned the pattern, “it means it is safe to come out. I will walk away, and you should exit within ten seconds so as not to be seen by anyone.”
She laughed but nodded and pretended to stand at attention.
“Sir, yes sir.”
He turned so she wouldn’t see the color that had come to his cheeks. It took all of his willpower to step away from her. He knew he had to move himself swiftly and decisively – for, if he were to hesitate, he had no doubt he would gravitate straight back to her.
He moved to the door with a smile and, after listening for a moment, opened it a crack. He looked out, seeing an empty hallway.
“Adieu, Miss Sharma.”
He gave her one last longing look, and then nodded before turning and quickly leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.